His nightmare
by wolfdogofthenorth
Summary: When Lavellan's biggest fear becomes reality his world is turned upside down. Will he be able to gain his own footing again or will he fall to his demons?
**AN: Thank you for clicking on this fic, I hope you'll like it. I just want to let you know that English isn't my first language so if you spot any mistakes or something that doesn't make sense, please let me know and I'll try to fix it.**

The evening it all started was a busy one at The Green Bear.

The tavern was lit by blinking oil lamps and a fire happily cracking in the fireplace at the wall. Summer was long gone and a penetrating cold creeped through the land accompanying the night. Though the changing season was not the only topic of the customers' conversations. People sitting at the tables like sparrows on a bush talked about something else, something that stalked the land as well, though not necessarily at night.

The innkeeper seated on a bench next to barrels of beer evoked the impression that he was watching his daughter as she brought the customers jugs and bowls of food although in reality he was looking everywhere and nowhere. He was thinking about how things had developed in the last months and how it all affected his receipts. There was, of course, the thing with the rift in the sky above the place where The temple of Sacred Ashes used to be but that didn't seem to impact the amount of travelers who stopped at his inn. Much worse was the word that spread from Crestwood a day's travel from his inn. These horrible news were the ones responsible for his potential customers choosing a different path on their journeys. They were scaring them away like children scaring away easily frightened pidgeons. On the other hand, it was thanks to these particular news that brought more of the local villagers to his inn who rather then staying alone at home came here to discuss the rumors with others.

"Something good can be found in anything bad." mused the innkeeper as he stood up to pour beer in the jugs his daughter brought him.

Suddenly, the dogs on the inn's yard started barking and several hoofbeats could be heard. "New guests." thought the innkeeper. Not a lot of wanderers stopped at his inn these days though someone did appear from time to time. His profits weren't so bad after all.

The front door opened and two elves entered the inn, a man and a woman. They both had light blond hair. While the woman's hair was short and with a fringe, the man had fair hair that reached to his chin. A black haired woman with a stern expression on her face entered after them along with a dark haired man whose moustache was turned slightly up and evoked the impression that the man was looking at something amusing.

They looked about the room and picked the only table that wasn't occupied. The innkeeper's daughter walked up to them and asked what they would like to eat. There was a delicious smell of roasted ram hanging in the air so they pretty quickly made up their minds.

"What brings you to this place? Don't you know what lurks in these lands?" spoke a local man from the table next to theirs. The other locals turned their heads and curiously waited for their reaction.

"What does lurk here?" asked the elven woman and took a bite of a ram's leg.

"You should have stayed far away from here. The road to Crestwood isn't as safe as it used to be and Crestwood alone... well, let's say they have problems with their own dead." another man joined the conversation.

"Oh, you mean how the people they had laid to rest go and knock on their windows?" swept the elven woman her hand. "We know that. After all, that's why we're traveling there."

The people at the tables put on astonished expressions. They've already heard of wanderers who rather than risking their lives chose to avoid the roads near Crestwood but to hear somebody say the living dead were the reason they were traveling there – that was something new. The room filled with a thrilled murmur. These strangers seemed to be an interesting bunch.

"If I may ask, what do you want to do with their problem? Are you some kind of adventurers the people of Crestwood hired for help?" questioned further the man who started the conversation even though it occured to him that these folks didn't look like mercenaries. He cast a very suspicious look at the dark haired man's staff. It was far too ornate to be just a walking stick.

"You could say it like that. Though we're not so sure about the pay." said the elf. The black haired woman sitting opposite the elf frowned at his words. "We're not doing it for a reward but because it's something that has to be done and it seems that nobody else is coming to aid them." The elf smiled an apologetic smile and lifted his hands in a reconciling gesture. "I know. But I can joke a bit, can't I?"

"Be careful with that." laughed the man sitting next to the brunette. "Last time you nearly lost an ear thanks to your joking." The blonde woman burst into laughter at the memory.

"I know who you are." came a voice three tables away from them. A plump woman was sitting there and glancing at them with angry eyes. "You must be from the Inquisition the mayor of Crestwood sent Andraste knows how many letters begging for help. It's high time you finally decided to come here. I personally didn't even think you would come at all. And the wickedness from Crestwood can crawl to our village any time now." fumed the woman.

"Whoa there, lady." the elven woman pointed a gnawed bone at the raging person. "Till we got to this pothouse we had to deal with two holes to the world of spirits. Do you know how many ugly bastards can creep from there? And how much time it takes to get rid of them?"

"You really fought with demons?" asked a tall thin man from the table next to theirs. "Please, tell us about it."

The elven woman smiled and rubbed her hands together. It seems she found an appreciatory audience.

oooooooo

"And then a bear showed up. You should've seen the carnage!" the blonde entertained everybody with the fifth tale in a row.

Faenor Lavellan was listening to her amusing stories and trying to find some taste in the rot-gut they called beer here. His eyes were slowly starting to close and he thought about saying goodnight to the others when Sera next to him jumped on the bench and waved her hand furiously. "Then the Inquisitor swung his hand at the rift, the rift closed with a loud roar and the demons at the other side wailed in anger." Sera finished and sat back. Faenor could feel the whole room staring at him.

"So you really have a mark on your hand from Andraste herself?" the innkeeper wondered.

"Could you show it to us?" he asked while Sera snickered. Faenor kicked her in the leg under the table though he too had a smile on his face. "I'd rather not. The last person who looked at the mark too closely turned into stone. Now he's on display in Skyhold's garden."

"The pidgeons come to coo in his ears every day." Dorian couldn't resist to add. Somebody's jug slipped out of their hand and the earthen vessel smashed into pieces on the floor. The room flooded with excited talks.

Cassandra looked angrily at Lavellan. "I would truly appreciate it if you'd stop spreading such silly gossip." she hissed.

"Come now, Cassandra. The people are having fun." Dorian came to the elf's aid.

"I can't understand how you are not bothered by this kind of stupid hearsay spreading around." she breathed out.

Faenor just shrugged. "It's not that bad to have some reputation even if a lot of it is rubbish. Besides, sometimes it's fun to find out what people can add to it."

The inn was humming like a beehive and nobody was planning on leaving save for one man in the corner who stood up and headed for the door on his unsteady feet. He has heard enough to know they cannot pass up such an opportunity.

oooooooo

Faenor tossed and turned but couldn't find a comfortable position. The voices coming from the main room of the inn and even through the door of his room were too loud and scaring away any sleep that might come.

The elf kicked away the blanket and sat up. He rubbed his eyes then his whole face. He just sat motionlessly for a while until he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and put on his boots. He reached for his shirt as he already had trousers on. He let the light armor he took off for the night be opting instead for his warm cloak. He left the room and when he was crossing the main room of the inn he waved back at Sera who was still swilling down beer and entertaining a few of the locals that have stayed at the inn in spite of the ungodly hour. The innkeeper was snoozing on a bench next to the barrels of beer, the corners of his mouth twitching from time to time. Faenor couldn't see Cassandra or Dorian as they must've left to their own rooms respectively. He took one of the lanterns hanging on the wall by the door, lit it and went out into the darkness that enveloped the land. He just stood outside for a moment, enjoying the fresh night air. The inside of the inn was becoming too sultry for his own taste.

Two dogs on chains barked at him a few times but when Faenor started talking to them they calmed down and wagged their tails. Though he didn't go and pet them as they had far too many pointed fangs in their maws.

Faenor turned left and went alongside the wall of the tavern. The stars in the cloudless sky twinkled and lit up his path. Faenor turned the corner and after a few steps stopped in front of a wide and wooden gate. He carefully opened them, trying not to make any unnecessary noise, and entered the stable. The dark space was warm from the breath of animals, the quiet interrupted only by a few soft snorts now and then. The elf raised the lantern and a few horses raised their heads and blinked sleepily at him. Faenor walked over to one of the animals that didn't quite fit with the others. The light of the lantern fell on massive antlers whose owner swung its head up and down and bellowed deeply in greetings. In his own space was a brown hart with a silver mane and tail. He was as tall as the other horses in the stable, maybe a little taller, and his dark but clever eyes curiously followed the elf's movement.

Faenor smiled and petted the animal on its head.

"What's wrong, my friend? Can't sleep as well?" he said to the hart and patted him on the neck. The animal nodded its head as if agreeing and tried to lick the elf's face.

"You can keep your kisses." Faenor laughed and gently smacked the hart on its nose. The hart shook its head then lowered it, pointing its patulous antlers at the elf. Faenor smirked. "Come on now, you're not really mad at me, are you? Wait a minute..." he said and hung the lantern on a nail protruding from the wooden wall of the hart's stall. He then roamed the stable until he found what he was looking for. He returned to the animal and showed it an old brush. "Look what I've found. I'll brush your coat a little. You'll like it." He entered the hart's stall and started to comb through the animals coat. The hart contentedly rumbled and let the elf brush his coat. "Told you." Faenor patted the hart on its side, earning another happy gurgle. When he was finished and cleaned the brush from brown hair, he sat down on a fresh pile of hay that was scattered on the floor as bedding and enjoyed the quiet that reigned in the dark stable.

Faenor didn't know how long he sat there when he started drowsing off and his head fell on his chest. He jerked upright earning an inquisitive look from the hart, stood up and stretched his limbs. "Well, I guess I'll be heading back now." he said to the animal. "Perhaps Sera and her new friends already finished their party and I'll be able to fall asleep." He left the hart's stall, making sure the gate of the stall is closed properly so that the animal wouldn't go on a little walk, and stroked the hart's head one last time. "I don't have any treats on me but I'll be sure to bring you some in the morning, okay?" he promised the hart and took the lantern that was almost completely burnt out.

As he exited the stable he shivered from cold. While he was inside the stable, an unpleasant wind picked up and was now blowing into his face with a cold breath. Faenor curled into his coat and started walking back to the inn only to suddenly stop dead in his tracks. A dark figure turned the corner of the inn and stood a few feet away from the elf's light. A dagger flashed in their hand.

Faenor inhaled sharply. "Who are you?" he asked but the figure didn't even move. It was then Faenor realized someone was standing behind him as well but before he could do anything something hit him hard in the head and the light of the lantern, the stars in the sky and everything around him fell into complete darkness.


End file.
